


Being Human

by GiacintaF_Nigel



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Amnesia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 17:19:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10194815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GiacintaF_Nigel/pseuds/GiacintaF_Nigel
Summary: The Dark One disappears for a week after his wedding and returns to Storybrooke with a child in tow, just in time to be sealed in by Queen Elsa's ice wall. He claims the girl is his granddaughter, but with little Amelia suffering from amnesia nobody knows for sure. Where did she come from? Who is she really? And as she integrated herself into the town, another question arose... What is she?Warnings for later chapters.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Well since OUaT is practically a live action Disney TV series, I'll just be thick skinned and shamelessly borrow whatever Disney references I need. Comment if you spot any!

Walter put down the phone and sighed. Someone would be coming over to bring her over to Sixth Street Orphanage in an hour. Looking over to where the little girl was huddled in the corner with her eyes brimming with unshed tears, his heart ached. She looked no older than his Minnie back home and yet here she is, alone in a police station with nowhere to go and no memories to aid her in doing so. It doesn't help that the papers they found on her, her only possession, is her mother's will.

Nobody knows who she is or where she came from. The woman in the will was a little known English heiress from London, but nothing indicated either of them had any other kin. The staff in the mansion her mother left her were of no help either. They confirmed her mother's name, but had neither heard of the girl nor ever seen their employer's face. He couldn't find anything helpful in the network either. It was as if the girl never existed.

He was called in by a lady who noticed her wandering the streets. When he arrived at the scene, he found a grimy girl in oversized clothes clutching to a post box wailing as the lady tried to convince her into her home for a meal and a wash. Between the two of them, they finally coaxed the girl into the station. But ever since she arrived, she hadn't uttered a word.

Sighing, Walter diverted his attention back to the papers on his desk. If little Amelia Cassidy's lawyer doesn't come soon, they would have to put her into the system. Even with the vast amount of money her mother left her, the girl is still way too young to live on her own without a guardian. Without any credentials of her own, they are unable to send her back to England either.

Walter frowned at the lawyer's signature. Mr R. Gold. What a peculiar name.


	2. Grandfather

A girl and a boy are chasing each other through the halls of Sixth Street Orphanage with a cowboy and a cowgirl sitting on their shoulders respectively. Skidding to a stop in front of the staircase leading to the upper floors, the girl turned to her playmate.

"Do you think we should invite the new girl to join us?"

"Amelia? I don't think I've seen her out of the bedroom except during meal times."

"Maybe she's just shy. You aren't any better when you first came, you know."

"Well, she's a weird one. And she speaks funny. Not that she talks much."

"Try sleeping next to her at night..."

"What?"

"Nothing. Mildred said it's her accent because she isn't from America."

"But an old man came for her a few days ago. Said he was her grandfather. He sounds normal."

"Normal? Really. Goob is a major league player and speaks American. Does he look normal to you?"

"At least Goob brings goodies when he visits. There's just something creepy about her..."

 

Huddled underneath the covers, a little girl with dishevelled brown tresses stared at the mismatched button eyes of a stuffed crocodile toy. Amelia. It sounds so foreign in her head. Is that really her name? She has no idea, and nobody could give her the answers she wants either.

"You'll stay with Miss Duffy and the other children until we can find someone to take care of you, alright?" the nice man at the police station told her before she was led away to the little blue car waiting on the curb.

That was almost a week ago. She buried her head into the crocodile's tummy. He still smelled a little musty from being left under the bed where she found him, but Amelia didn't mind. Like her, the crocodile was alone and forgotten. Not being able to remember anything from the past is painful and frustrating, but it is the thought of being utterly alone that frightens her. Does she belong to someone? Anyone?

A soft rap on the door jolted her out of the turmoil inside her head.

"Amelia?" a voice she recognised belonging to the kindly woman who runs the house - Mildred - called.

The blanket was lifted off and gentle fingers brushed through the mess atop her head. Amelia turned to eye the woman with most of her face still hidden in the crocodile's belly.

"Shall we tidy you up?" Mildred smiled. "Someone is here to see you."

 

Changed out of her pyjamas and her hair now tangle free, Amelia trudged after Mildred still clutching the plush toy. Stopping before an open door, Mildred gave Amelia a quick smile and motioned for the girl to follow her into the room.

"Miss Duffy," a man greeted from inside the room.

Peeking in, Amelia saw a man with greying hair holding up a stack of papers.

"I went through every procedure and brought all the necessary papers. I believe you can release her to me now."

The man was smiling, but something in his eyes gave Amelia the chills.

"Yes, of course," Mildred smiled before realising the girl was still at the door. She motioned again for Amelia to come in but the girl refused, clutching the door frame and shaking her head profusely. The man turned to where she was and a gasp slipped through his stunned lips.

"Mia..."

Mildred finally managed to convince the little girl into the room, though she continued to hide behind her with a vice-like grip on her dress.

"Here she is, Mr Gold," Mildred laughed nervously. "She is a little shy, I'm afraid."

Just when Mildred was at her wits end on what to do with the trembling girl, Mr Gold stood up and slowly made his way towards them, leaning heavily on his cane. To Mildred's surprise, the usually stern man knelt to the child's height and gave a tender smile.

"Come here Amelia," the man called gently, holding a hand up. "Don't be scared. Grandpapa is here to bring you home."

 

A short trip to a departmental store later, Amelia is in the front passenger seat of Mr Gold's black sedan in new clothes clutching a newly washed crocodile plushie. Gold made sure she is safely strapped in before swiftly pulling out of the parking lot. Putting pressure on the gas pedal, he ran through traffic lights faster than he pulled out hearts. The adoption process took longer than he planned even with his connections, and he has been out of Storybrooke for almost a whole week. He did not mean to leave his newly married wife alone for so long so soon after the honeymoon, but he could not risk letting little Amelia out of his grasp when she was just a few towns away. Then again, she was discovered further away from Storybrooke than he expected.

"Are you really my grandfather?" a quiet voice mumbled beside him.

Glancing at the little imp, he sighed silently in his head. She still refuses to speak directly to him, preferring to speak to the crocodile toy she refused to leave back in the orphanage. Ha. Crocodile. How fitting that the toy her daughter is now so attached to is the same animal that wretched pirate insists on calling him.

"Of course," he forced a smile onto his face before the intuitive girl caught his pause. "Didn't you see the DNA report and other papers I gave the authorities before they agreed to let you come with me?"

"But they said you're my mother's artery."

"Attorney," he corrected. He could feel the girl's questioning gaze on him.

"Yes," he added. "And also your grandfather."

The voice that drifted to his ears was directed to the toy once again.

"I don't remember anything. My head hurts when I try."

Gold blinked. The girl has a way to tug at his heartstrings with a few simple words. Was it guilt he felt? The only thing he knows for sure is to make sure she is safe at his side. Suddenly he missed his wife even more. Belle would know what to do in this situation.

"Then don't. The past is in the past. Grandpapa is here now."

"But what if you have to leave too? What if-"

At that, Gold pulled over the car abruptly. Beside him, Amelia gave a little shriek and buried her head in the toy's tummy. Stopping the car at the side of a street, he looks to the little creature shaking in her oversized seat. He unbuckled his seatbelt and sighs, coaxing the toy away from her face gently. Amelia looked up at him with her large grey eyes gleaming with tears threatening to spill over, yet refusing to let go of the mangy toy. He released the little one from her constraints and leant over to gather her into his arms.

"I'm never going to leave you again, my child," he whispered, making soothing motions down her back in a way he thought he had long forgotten. "I won't make the same mistake twice."

When she finally relaxed into his embrace, Gold gave her a little squeeze before leaning back and plopping her down in her seat. A genuine smile lifts the corners of his lips as he held both of Amelia's small hands in his.

"Everything is going to be fine now. Grandpapa is going to hold on tight and am never letting go. No matter what. Deal?"

Amelia searched his eyes for a while before breaking into a little smile and nodding.

"Deal."

For a moment, the smile froze on his face. In her expressive grey eyes, he could somehow see the son that he let slip away from him. Never again, he promised himself as he buckled them both back in, ready to bring his little granddaughter home to where his wife was waiting. He took another glance at Amelia, who is now quietly humming a quaint little tune to her crocodile.

"Why don't you give it a name? A name will make it real."


End file.
